Spidey One-Shots (Reveals, Fluff, Action, and More!)
by TheRandomnessAwaits
Summary: Here is a collection of one-shots about Spider-Man, centered around the MCU. It will contain a lot of reveal fics and some fluff. See chapter one for more details! (I DO NOT OWN SPIDER-MAN.)
1. And it All Falls Apart

**(A/N)**

 **Hello, wonderful people of the internet!**

 **Here we have a collection of Spider-Man one-shots. I have not read the comics, so this will mostly be centered around the MCU. I think most of these will be reveal fics, but there will definitely be ones with just pure fluff.**

 **This first one-shot is from my Wattpad account (same username) and is basically about how one video ruins Peter's life. Well, his school life.**

 **Happy reading!**

 _And it All Falls Apart_

To be honest, things were already pretty rotten before the giant lizard arrived.

Liz had even wrote a list down. It helped her keep track of stuff that went wrong so she could remember what to forget. It was a stupid system, but it worked.  
Currently, she had about seven things written down:

 _Missed school buss  
Kicked out of yearbook club  
Wandered into boy's locker room by mistake  
Low score on chemistry test  
Forgot homework  
Forgot to meet Alison after class  
Yelled at for drawing in class_

Yeah... she was not having a very good day.

However, Liz was not prepared for the random lizard that had popped out of nowhere... out of the bathroom where she resided.

Not in the same stall, thank God. That would've been annoying. No, the Lizard (it had a name now, yippee) had burst out of the stall next to her, which wasn't much better, but even so, an improvement.

Now, don't think that Liz wasn't in control of her unfortunate situation. Extremely annoyed, yes, and just about ready to murder someone, definitely, but she wasn't stupid. She screamed, scrambled out of the stall (nearly forgetting to pull up her pants in the process), and hid underneath a sink, shaking with fear. She watched as the Lizard crawled out into the hallway, she heard the screams of the other students, and she could not move.

Liz Allan was having a rotten day.

When the screams subsided a bit, she realized that the other students had probably left already. Slowly, trying not to knock anything over and make her position obvious, she looked around for a window to jump out of, but the only one she could find was at least thirty feet above the ground. There was no way she was jumping down that.

Which meant she had to go out into the hall.

Taking a deep, shuddering breath, Liz steeled herself for what was to come. Then, as silently as she could, she crept out of the bathroom, peeking around the corner into the hall.

What she saw surprised her even more.

Peter Parker (at least, she was pretty sure that was his name), in all his nerdy glory, with his messy brown hair and chocolate-brown eyes, stood in front of the Lizard.

Except... it didn't look like Peter. Peter always had this shy, insecure expression, like he wasn't sure what he was doing half the time, like the whole world was against him. But now, standing in front of the lizard-monster-thing, his eyes swam with rage, his whole body was in a fighting stance, and he looked like he was about to blow up, that's how much power he projected.

It was... different, to say the least. And confusing. And frightening.

Liz was just about to yell at Peter to move, run, to something, when suddenly, he snapped into action. Like a bullet, he shot at the Lizard, faster than she had ever seen him move, faster than anyone should be able to move, and he slid under the monster.

Then he shot wire out of his wrists.

Liz stifled a gasp, instead taking out her phone from her pocket and fumbling a bit with the buttons before she was able to get to the camera. She pressed the record button, and with a shaky hand, let the scene in front of her play out.

Peter jumped onto the creature and started punching him repeatedly, his jaw set hard. The Lizard spun around and grabbed Peter's backpack, throwing it to the side, and before the boy could move out of the way, the Lizard grabbed him and lifted the nerd up into the air, having trouble keeping the struggling boy still.

Then he slammed poor Peter into the lockers, and grabbed him again, throwing him through a door and into another room, and all Liz could think was as she saw him crumple was, _Oh my God, oh my God, oh my God, no, this isn't happening, this can't be happening..._

The Lizard followed Peter through the door, a small smirk on its lips, and it took all of Liz's willpower to follow them through, at a safe distance, continuing to film, unable to keep her eyes away.

Peter and the Lizard started fighting on the floor. The Lizard had Peter pinned down, but he threw a chair at his head, which the creature dodged easily. The Lizard then went on to talking to the boy he was pinning down, but Liz couldn't hear anything, not with the blood roaring loudly in her ears.

The Lizard moved to swipe at Peter with his claw, who dodged and clung to its leg. Liz saw his gaze zero in on his backpack, which lay a few feet away. He was so focused on it, he didn't notice the Lizard lifting him up again. Liz stopped herself from screaming as Peter shot another wire at the backpack, pulling it towards him.

The Lizard threw him through another wall, and for a few moments, nothing was heard. Liz wondered why she hadn't been found yet, her heart was beating so loudly. She watched the Lizard mix two chemicals together and squeaked a little when it threw the steaming substance at the hole in the wall, creating a small explosion. That would've killed any normal human being! (And why would they have those chemicals right next to each other if they could create a bomb?)

Suddenly, a shoe hit the Lizard in the face. It was so stupid, Liz had to stop herself from laughing out loud.

Then Spider-Man jumped out of the hole.

Peter Parker was Spider-Man.

Spider-Man was Peter Parker.

God.

She watched the fight commence, nearly blacking out several times. She couldn't believe it. She wouldn't. Yet here she was, watching Peter Parker - no, _Spider-Man_ \- fight a giant lizard.

She continued to film the fight, watching with some kind of sick fascination as the Lizard and Spider-Man swapped punches and kicks. She watched as Spider-Man clung to the monster's tail and got slammed into the lockers, she watched as the tail came off, propelling both it and the hero out into another hall, she watched it all, and she could not look away.

When the Lizard followed Spider-Man through the door and into the other hall, Liz moved. She quickly stopped recording (she had seen enough) and darted out the other way, through the stairwell, down the stairs, and out the door.

Freedom.

Today was Friday, which meant she had two more days to make a decision before Peter came to school again.  
But for now, she would take a well-deserved nap.

It was Tuesday. Liz hadn't made a decision.

She was torn between showing the video to the other students, especially Gwen Stacy, his girlfriend, and keeping it to herself. After all, it was Spider-Man's secret identity. Wasn't it his right to keep it, well, secret?

On the other hand, having that big of a secret could become an issue. People might start to question their masked hero, and having people in on the secret could be a huge advantage, not only to his enemies, but to his family, friends, and most importantly, the press. Having some people know about it could be life-saving.

So what should she do?

Every time Peter passed her in the halls, laughing with Gwen and sporting a brand-new bruise (skateboarding accident, apparently), Liz would avert her eyes and squeeze into her locker, hoping he wouldn't notice her and somehow figure out what had happened. It was nerve-racking, the possibility that he could know, and she couldn't take it any more. She had to tell _someone._

Oh! How about Alison?

Her best friend knew how to keep a secret. She would support her and give her advice on what to do. Yes, she'd go to Alison.

That backfired completely.

"HOLY WHAT?!" Alison screeched as soon as she saw the video. "What the... _holy_ -"

"Keep it down," Liz whispered frantically. "He doesn't know I saw him."

"Are you sure this isn't photo-shopped? You're not messing with me?"

"Positive," Liz confirmed, noticing the strange stares they were receiving.

"Well, what're you gonna do about it?"

"I..." Liz cleared her throat. "I was hoping you'd be able to tell me."

Alison stared at her. Then she burst out laughing. "Oh my God. Liz. You can't come running to me with everything. I have no idea what to do."

"Oh."

"I mean, you could just tell people," she went on.

"What? No!" Liz exclaimed. "It's his secret."

"Then delete the video."

"I can't do that either! It's too..."

"Huge?" Alison finished for her, a wide smirk on her face.

"Yeah. Huge."

Alison slung her arm around Liz's shoulder. "Listen here, Lizzy. You just witnessed Peter-freaking-Parker reveal himself to be Spider-freaking-Man. And you caught it on video. On _video_. Obviously you need to use this to your advantage."

"But I don't want to hurt him," Liz protested. She was regretting ever telling Alison by the second. "It's his secret identity we're talking about here."

Alison sighed, rubbing her hand over her face. She then dropped her hand and grinned. Liz did not like that grin. "Ooooohhhh," she breathed. "I know what you can do."

"Which is?" Liz asked nervously.

"Give the video to me." Alison rubbed her two hands together evilly, eyeing her friend's phone.

"Huh? No. Nuh-uh. Definitely not," Liz said, clutching the phone protectively. "Who knows what you'll do with it?"

"That's just it." She was still eyeing the phone. "You _won't_ know. If you give the video to me and delete your's, then I can decide for myself what to do with it, and if it completely backfires, I'll feel no remorse. You know I have a cold heart. And the best part? You won't get blamed. After all, _I_ took the video."

This was such a stupid idea.

So stupid.

Liz was not giving in.

She _wasn't._

"Fine." Liz texted Alison the video, then deleted it on her own phone without a second thought.

What was wrong with her?

"Awesome," Alison said, still grinning evilly. She skipped away.

This was going to be a rotten day.

Peter Parker officially hated gossip.

He had been so careful. Careful to keep his secret. Careful to keep the people around him, the people he cared about, safe.

And it had all fallen apart because of one stupid video.

He walked into the school yard that morning, completely unaware of what was to come. Vaguely, he noticed people standing around outside, having a hushed conversation, but nothing seemed off until he stepped up to the front doors.

His spidey senses tingled, but that wasn't the only thing that set him off. He felt like he had had a bad breakfast. Like he was about to be sick.

Something was wrong.

But before he was able to burst through the doors of the school and fight whoever it was that was terrorizing the students, he felt a hand on his shoulder. Turning around swiftly, he saw Gwen at the bottom of the steps, a solemn expression on her face.

"What's wrong?" he asked quietly, cupping her face in his hands.

"Oh, Peter..." Gwen said softly. A single tear trailed down her face, and alarm shot through Peter. "It's... it's not good..."

"What? What's not good?"

"Peter, don't..." Gwen tried to stop him from going inside, but he twisted free and kicked open the doors, ready to intercept the attacker-  
Only to find nothing but a hall full of whispering kids that froze when he burst through.

"Oh." Peter got out of his fighting stance and adjusted his shirt casually. "Uh, hey."

Gwen stepped through and tapped on his shoulder. She whispered, "Video," but Peter was too busy trying to find the source of the bad feeling he still had. His girlfriend buried her face in her hands, looked up again, took a deep breath, and screamed, " _Peter, they know!_ "

Peter Parker froze and turned around to face her. "What?"

She was openly crying now. "There was a-a vide-eo... dur-ring the fight... with the Liz-zard... so-someone..." She sobbed again.

As for Peter, he had gone white. He was trembling all over. His fingers were unconsciously trailing over the web-shooters, and the blood roaring in his ears blocked out everything else. All he could think was, _No, they can't know, they can't, this is all a misunderstanding..._

"Show me the video," he commanded. A girl shuffled up to him and held out her phone. He watched the video with shaking hands, wondering how he hadn't noticed, how he hadn't seen, how he hadn't known he was being watched. And why would they do this? Surely anyone would know that it was his secret...

But screw the secret. It was all falling apart.

Peter crushed the phone in his hands, emitting some gasps from the students around him, but he didn't notice. He let the phone fall and numbly walked to his locker, grabbed his books, and went to his first class.

No one stopped him.

The rest of the day was spent in silence. Whenever Peter walked into a room, everyone stopped their chatter, creating some confusion with the teachers. Only the students knew, and no one had gone to the press yet with the news, seeing how a whole school knowing had affected their friendly neighborhood Spider-Man.

Some people came up to ask him questions about his superhero life, but one glare and a clenched fist sent them running. Only Gwen was allowed near him, and it was apparent that she had already known. But no one came up to her for questions, either.

Flash Thompson was a different matter entirely.

He had beat up Peter several times. He had bullied him too many times to count. And all the while, he was really beating up and bullying his hero, Spider-Man.

How did that affect him, you ask?

He avoided everyone in the halls. He wouldn't look anyone in the eye. He was ashamed, and embarrassed, that he had been beating up Spider-Man this entire time, thinking that Peter was too weak to defend himself, when really, it was all for show.

Today, he decided, he would go and apologize.

He walked through the halls, spotting Peter by his locker, grabbing his books. Gwen was nowhere to be seen. The other students, as usual, kept their distance, all except one.

"Yo, Parker," Flash said, walking up decisively.

Peter barely looked up. "Flash."

"So," Flash started, "look, um, I know we've had our differences in the past, but I'm willing to look past that, now that I know you're, well-"

"Spider-Man?" Peter interjected, shoving his books into his locker. He turned to face Flash, rage bubbling up in his stomach. "That's it, isn't it, Flash? Because now I'm Spider-Man. Now I'm worth your good graces. You think all those years of bullying me and others will ever let me forgive you? I never will, _Eugene_. And just because I'm a better person than you thought doesn't make up for the fact that you beat me, day by day, never thinking I could defend myself. Well, guess what, _I can_." He flexed his fingers, and his sleeve slid over to reveal his web shooters.

"Parker-" Flash started.

"No, Flash. Look. You see this? You know how strong I am? I could snap your neck with a flick of my wrist. A snap of my fingers. And trust me, it's tempting. But you know why I haven't? Why I haven't sought revenge on everyone who ever wronged me?

"It's because I'm a good person. I try to be. The last thing my uncle told me before he was murdered was that with great power comes great responsibility. Or something like that. And I've taken it to heart. I've been given these powers, and I've tried to use them to help people, not hurt them.

"And you know what that comes with? Enemies. Lots and lots of enemies. And these enemies want to hurt people. Hurt the people I care about. But if they don't know who Spider-Man is, they can't. Which is why I didn't tell anyone about my identity, except Gwen, and by doing so, I put her in more danger than she realizes." He took a deep breath and looked at everyone around him. The students were staring at him with wide eyes. He kept talking.

"But now that you know, all my hard work was wasted. All I ever did was to keep everyone safe. Have you ever noticed that? How much I've sacrificed, just to keep New York safe? Of course you didn't. And now it's all over. Now it's all fallen apart.

"You guys, every one of you, are now a target. A target to my enemies. And you don't have any superhuman abilities, so I'd say you're a pretty big, slow-moving target." He glared at everyone, tears brimming in his eyes. "I hope you're happy."

Then he screamed and punched the locker, making a large dent.

Peter Parker stumbled away.

After a few minutes of silence, many students on the verge of tears, Gwen stepped into the hall and noticed the locker.

"Oh," she said tiredly. "He broke his locker again, didn't he?"

They were sitting at the bleachers, watching Flash and his football team play. Peter had Gwen wrapped in his arms while she reviewed some science notes.

Peter sighed. "This is going to be such an awkward year."

"And full of angst," Gwen said, barely looking up from her notes. "Honestly, Peter, I know you're upset about this, but if you don't accept it, it's only going to hurt you."

"I know, it's just..." He sighed. "They're all in danger."

"You'll keep them safe."

"How do you have so much faith in me?" he asked incredulously.

Gwen smiled and kissed him softly. "Because I know you. And I trust you. And you have those adorable puppy-dog eyes that I can't help but believe."

Peter laughed. "I love you."

"Hmm. I know."

They sat there, cuddled up against each other, until a crackling noise was heard from the device next to Peter.

" _All units, we've got a 10-71 on thirty-first street. All units, do you copy?_ "

"Be careful," Gwen told Peter as he got up.

He gave her a grin. "When am I never careful?"

Spider-Man was reported to have saved twenty-three people from the shooting.

Peter walked in late to class, claiming to have been in the bathroom, but every student noticed the new black eye and cut he was sporting.

Out in the hall, he was stunned as he heard every student in the vicinity cheer for him.

Gwen ran up and kissed him full on the mouth, emitting more cheers.

Things weren't as rotten as they had first seemed.

 **(A/N)**

 **Okay. So this is how things are going to play out:  
On Wattpad, my updating schedule is once a week; no exceptions. Here, however, it will be less frequently, since this is sort of my second source for writing. When I find a comfortable writing schedule, I'll announce it, but for now, updates will be spontaneous.  
Also, I'm a huge grammar freak, so **_**please**_ **point out mistakes in my writing. I'm a perfectionist.**

 **If you guys liked the first one-shot, let me know in a review! Or constructive criticism. Whatever you like. :)**

 **Anyway…**

 **Hmm… should I?  
** **I don't know… I'm not on Wattpad.  
** **Oh, what the heck.**

 **STAY RANDOM! :P**


	2. One Thing Leads to Another

**(A/N)**

 **Yo, little munchkins!**

 **Thanks so much for the support so far! I've had, what, three notifications? Lemme check...**

 **Two reviews and some story follows and favorites. Thanks so much!**

 **I will not be replying to reviews; maybe in the future I will change my mind, but for now... yeah.**

 **Also, I meant to post this, like, three days after the first part, but it turned out a lot longer than I had originally thought... ah, well, school's almost over, so that's always a plus.**

 **So! Part two! Yay!**

 **This one is set after The Amazing Spider-Man 2, but I have made some changes, namely Peter's age. Instead of him being eighteen, I've made him sixteen for the sake of this story. It doesn't really change much, but I thought it would be more impactful if he were younger and out saving people, especially where this story is going to go.**

 **It's another reveal fic, by the way.**

 **Enough of me! On with the story!**

 _.+_+_+_+_+_+_+_+_+_+_+_+_+._

She was falling.

He saw it over and over, every time he closed his eyes; the watchtower gears grinding against the web holding his beloved - then the web snapped, and she was falling... Everything went into slow motion.

He tried, tried so hard, but every time, he failed. He saw himself realizing that he wouldn't be able to save her, he couldn't catch her, so he did the stupidest thing ever.

He shot a web at her.

Of course it didn't work. Of course by the time it reached her, she was already too close to the ground. Of course her back snapped.

Or course she was dead.

She was dead and it was all his fault.

Peter Parker sobbed as he emerged from the memories. He put the flower - a beautiful white rose - on the grave and stepped back, feeling the tears roll down his cheeks.

Six months. Six months and he still hadn't moved on.

Peter took a deep, shuddering breath and turned away, walking back out of the cemetery with dragging feet. Those steps then became more purposeful as he slowly resurfaced and left his depressed state behind him. The city needed him. He had made the decision to return, and he couldn't go back on it now. Not even the death of Gwen should stop him.

He had to stay strong.

The sun was shining in the cloudless blue sky. Cars honked at each other as they swerved around corners and crossed intersections, barely pausing at the stop signs. Children screamed in delight as they tossed each other a ball, the summer breeze making their hair blow into their faces. Couples walked along the sidewalk, chatting comfortably with each other and going into local restaurants. College kids hurried past past, notebooks clutched under one of their arms and a coffee in the other.

New York wasn't called "the city that never slept" for nothing.

Turning a corner, Peter was about to text Aunt May and let her know he would be returning before he heard it. Sirens.

And right after came the smell. Due to his enhanced senses, Peter was able to smell the fire blocks away from where he stood. he ducked into a nearby alley and took off in the general direction, following the sirens and the smoke. Burning buildings were always his least-favorite; the smoke and heat made it near impossible for him to save everyone in time, but he never gave up. It all paid off, too - so far, he had been able to get everyone out each time.

After several blocks of swinging, the muscles in his arms straining with the effort of keeping him on his webs, he reached the source of the smoke.

The building was a large apartment complex. It seemed like it had a lot of wood to catch fire that easily. Peter noticed the firemen already working on the outside, and other civilians were jumping from open windows. However, he knew that there would always be a few unreachable to the firemen; that's where he came in.

Landing in front of the building (receiving several cries of relief from bystanders), Peter assessed the situation and all points of entry. The building looked like it could collapse any minute, with great plumes of smoke puffing out of windows, letting out the immense heat that would only get worse when he was inside. There was an open window about three stories up - if he could climb up there without bringing the building down, he'd be able to get inside and - hopefully - access the other floors to look for survivors.

A woman behind him cried out as someone inside screamed. " _That's my baby!_ " she screamed, wrestling the fireman holding her in place. " _I need to get to my baby!_ "

"How many more people?" another fireman barked.

"Two kids," the first replied, handing the flailing woman to a police officer. "They're too far inside to get, though."

"Here I go," Spidey murmured to himself and started to climb.

The climb was long and tedious. His clinging ability didn't work as well on hot surfaces, since every fiber of his being screamed at him to let go. But he couldn't let go, not until he was inside, not until the people in there were safe. Peter gasped as a wooden piece fell away, nearly sending him plummeting to the ground, then chastised himself. _Don't use wood. Wood burns._

Finally, after what seemed like hours, but was probably only minutes, Spider-Man reached the window. He crawled inside and was immediately hit with smoke and heat. He bent over, coughing, trying to dislodge the smoke in his lungs. Crouching low to the ground to get some fresher air, he called out, "Anybody here?"

No answer.

Peter pushed farther into the burning building, blinking hard to get rid of the tears that had come with the smoke. Gosh, he _hated_ fires.

He called again and again, removing debris and jumping out of the way of the flames. Finally, he heard a weak reply. If he didn't have his enhanced hearing, he wouldn't have been able to hear it.

There were two children huddled in a corner. One girl and a boy, probably siblings. They had blond hair and blue eyes, resembling the kicking woman, who Peter presumed was their mother. They couldn't have been more than eight years old. The kids stared up at them with wide, frightened eyes, clutching each other tightly with their ash-streaked arms. Around them, the inferno continued to burn.

"Hey." Peter's voice was raspy. "It's Spider-Man. I'm going to get you out, but you have to be brave. Okay?" The building suddenly groaned, and a large cracking sound came from overhead, making the children scream in panic and clutch each other tighter. "We have to move _now_!" the hero shouted, then shot two webs at the kids to bring them to him.

The spandex mask did little to keep the smoke out, but he knew he was still probably better off than the two kids wrapped around his waist. He crouched low and instructed the kids to do the same, shielding them from the fire with his body.

They started to move forward, avoiding large masses of fire and leaping out of the way of fallen debris. It was agonizing, having to move this slowly, but it was better than running and getting killed.

Just a few more feet...

 _Crash!_ The roof started to fall. With a scream, the children tried to run, but Spider-Man kept them there with his arms. He thrust his hands up into the air and caught the large slab of rock and wood, grunting at the effort of keeping it up. He turned to the kids and told them to start crawling towards the window, and they obliged.

It couldn't get any worse than this, could it?

Of course it did.

The ceiling was getting heavy, his muscles straining with the effort of keeping it up. The smoke in Peter's lungs made it difficult to get enough air, and he could already see black spots dancing in front of his eyes. He looked at the children and saw that they had stopped about halfway there, their eyes wide with terror. They were staring at him. "Go," Peter choked out, yelping a bit when the roof got heavier.

The children turned around again, but at that moment, flames flared up in front of them. They screamed and scrambled backwards, the sister helping the brother, who had tripped and fell. There was no room to reach the window.

Cursing under his breath, Peter prepared himself. With a heave of effort, he threw the ceiling back the other way and took off, grabbing the kids. He held them high above his head as he jumped through the flames, feeling the searing heat through his spandex.

 _That's gonna leave a mark,_ he thought with his muddled mind.

Straight through the window. The fresh air was sweet relief to Spidey's scorched throat, but that didn't compensate for the burns all around his legs. He tried to shoot webbing at the wall to brace himself, but came up... short.

 _Oh, sh-_

He did _not_ run out of webbing.

Stupid Parker Luck.

Desperate, Peter turned himself on his back with the children wrapped in his arms. He needed to save them, he couldn't let it happen again...

He saw the clock tower again. A beautiful, blond, seventeen-year-old girl was falling, panic in her eyes. The web was stretching out, trying to save her, but it was too late, she died, her back snapped, and it was all his fault...

A searing pain in his side awoke him from the memory. Spider-Man gasped and allowed himself enough time to see a long metal pole had embedded itself into his side, just inches short of the little boy.

Protect. He needed to protect.

The ground was coming fast. Peter braced himself for impact, holding the children in his arms tighter.

The wind got knocked out of him. Pain like fire traveled up his back, and he was certain he heard something crack. He lay there gasping for a few moments, side still hurting, children still in his arms, before the first fireman came and hauled the siblings off of him. In the distance, he heard a woman thanking him, over and over, but he couldn't be sure.

Finally, he realized what he was doing. Aunt May was probably worried sick, there were people around, and _Oh, God, I hope my mask is still on._ Reaching up with shaking fingers, Spidey felt the comforting spandex, on his face and breathed a sigh of relief, emitting several coughs.

Then he felt a shift in weight; someone was trying to pry the kids off of him. He cried out in pain as the metal rod embedded into his side moved around, and clutched the two kids tighter. _He had to protect them, he had to keep them safe..._

"Spider-Man," someone said urgently. "You can let them go now. Spidey, let go."

"Lee, can't you see he's hurt?" another man snapped. "He's got a _metal rod_ stuck in his side...!"

"Get the goddamn kids off of him, it looks like he's _strangling_ them!"

The weight left Peter's stomach, and his lungs suddenly had space to breathe in air. He heard murmured concerns, but he was too tired to care. He felt the urge to cough again, and with that cough came a moment of clarity.

Spider-Man was on the floor, surrounded by people, completely vulnerable. With a metal rod in his side.

Whoops.

He needed to get away. Reaching a shaky hand to his left side, Spidey grabbed the rod and yanked it out, biting his tongue to keep himself from crying out. It slid out with little trouble, and he lay there for a moment before attempting to seal the hole with webbing and stop the blood. Except... he was out of webbing.

Great.

He still had to get away. Even though his vision was slightly blurry (okay, a _lot_ blurry), he could rely on his spidey sense to get him out. But when Peter tried to move, he found that...

"I can't feel my legs," Peter choked out, and the others around him heard.

"Keep him still," someone barked, but panic had already taken control. Peter groaned as he tried to stay up, and pain traveled up his spine into his neck.

"Don't move, Spidey! Hey, keep still!"

He had to get away. With a newfound strength, Peter pushed himself up and stumbled a few feet before falling to the ground, finally welcoming the darkness engulfing him.

The last things he was able to gasp out was, "No hospitals..."

LINE BREAK

Peter Parker woke up with a snap.

He grabbed the wrist of whoever was poking at him with the towel, lifting up his masked face to see who his attacker was.

A woman.

She had chocolate brown hair, freckles, and bright blue eyes, and currently, she was staring at the teenager with a mixture of shock, concern, and relief.

Peter slowly took his hand away. His spidey sense wasn't going off, so he assumed she wasn't a threat. His eyes traveled down to the towel she was pressing against his side, and felt nausea take over as he saw the blood. The metal pole had gone deeper than he thought, and if this woman wasn't keeping the towel pressed against him, he would've bled out long ago. Not even his super healing would've save him in time.

He looked around. He was in a home, not a hospital, which was good. A cozy fireplace burned in a corner, lighting the room up in a hazy red light. Green couches were scattered around, and a small hallways led into a kitchen.

"You said no hospitals," she said with a little smile, "so we brought you here, to my house. I'm a doctor. Uh, my name is Karen. Karen Lee."

"Legs?" Peter choked out, his voice raspy. He still couldn't feel his legs, and it was terrifying him.

Karen looked down. "You suffered from a spinal fracture and..." She swallowed thickly. "You're paralyzed from the waist down."

Peter breathed out a sigh of relief, coughing once as he did so. At least he didn't have to cut off his legs completely. _That_ would suck.

Karen looked surprised. "Why are you relieved? You... you won't be able to swing around anymore, and... and you can't fight... and, oh..." She started to sob, but Peter shook his head.

"It'll be better by the end of the week," he said. "I heal fast."

As he said that, there was a creak and a crash, making Peter nearly jump to the ceiling. A man stumbled into the living room, wild-eyed. "Sorry," he panted. "There're people outside wanting to catch a glimpse of - Oh, hey, you're awake!" The man was wearing a police uniform. He had a scruffy red beard, brown eyes, and a strong build. "I'm Matt, Karen's husband."

Spider-Man gave a weak wave.

"Did you get it?" Karen asked.

"Yeah." Matt swung the bag he was carrying off his shoulder and grabbed an oxygen mask from inside. Peter felt himself tense as the man turned to him.

"Spider-Man," Karen said soothingly, "you breathed in a lot of smoke. You need to wear this."

Peter eyed the mask with distrust, but after a coughing fit, gave in and slipped the mask over his mouth, which he uncovered partway.

Matt looked lightly uncomfortable, shifting his feet side to side. He finally blurted, "You saved those kids' lives. Without even thinking how if could affect you, you jumped straight into danger for someone else... Thank you."

Peter took a deep breath from the oxygen mask. "Just doing my job," he muttered.

LINE BREAK

They moved him to the guest bedroom once the kids got home. Peter felt kind of bad for making two parents take care of him, but they insisted it was alright. After a brief panic attack when he remembered Aunt May still had no idea where he was, he informed her he was staying at a friend's house overnight through Karen's phone. Aunt May was surprisingly lenient, and didn't object when he mentioned sheepishly that he might have to stay more than one night, as this "friend" lived slightly far away.

"Your wife?" Karen asked when he handed her back the phone. Peter snorted at this, much to the other woman's confusion.

The Lees tended to him well, with their combined knowledge of medicine. After a day at the house, Peter felt a little more comfortable around them and didn't tense up whenever they entered the room.

He argued a bit about taking off his suit to take care of the wound in his side and his burns, but Karen was stubborn. In the end, he left his mask on, but even so, the doctor seemed shocked at how thin and small he was. Peter hoped she didn't guess his age, and was grateful that Matt wasn't there, as he surely would have.

He was able to get rid of the oxygen mask not too long after his first night there, and the wound in his side was healing quickly. His legs still didn't have a lot of feeling in them, but he was certain that his toe had moved around late afternoon.

It was all over the news, too: _Spider-Man Suffers Severe Injuries After Saving Two Children from a Burning Building._ Of course, J. Jonah Jameson found some way to make Peter seem like a menace ("He could've killed those kids if he hadn't been careful enough!"), but that was beside the point.

In the evening of the second day there (Aunt May was getting increasingly worried, so Peter hoped he's heal soon), Karen came in and announced that she would need to amp up his painkiller amount.

"No need to act all tough on me, Spidey," she said firmly. "I know you're in pain, and I don't know how much I need to give to you to help, so I'm gonna need your age."

"No," Spider-Man answered. "Absolutely not."

The doctor glared at him. "Listen here, Web-head," she said angrily, "I've been looking after you best I could, but I could do even better if you'd _just give me your freaking age._ "

Ouch. Guilt-tripping him always did the trick.

Peter sighed in resignation before answering. "Fine. Sixteen."

"Okay, that means you'd need - Wait. Did you say _sixteen_?" She stared at him in horror. "You're kidding me."

"I'm not. Why would I lie about my age if it meant getting an overdose or underdose of painkiller?"

"You're _sixteen_ ," she clarified, "as in, ten plus six? A _teenager_?"

Peter waited patiently for his painkiller. Honestly, he's expected this kind of reaction, but did being a kid really mean he shouldn't be a superhero? Please. As if being two years older would make any difference.

Karen shook her head in amazement and dropped a few pills into Peter's hand, then waited for him to swallow it before saying, "Why do you do it?"

Peter took a moment before answering. "I want to help."

"No. It's more than that."

Jeez, this woman was observant. "It's complicated," the hero said cautiously. "I've had some stuff happen to me, and a lot of it's my fault."

"So you're trying to make up for it."

"At first, I was." Peter looked down at his web-shooters. "But it became so much more than that. I really enjoy being Spider-Man. It's who I am."

Karen smiled. "You're a good person, Spidey. Never forget that."

He felt the painkiller begin to take effect. "Thanks..."

And then he was snoring.

LINE BREAK

Karen Lee listened as the hero's breathing became even. He was asleep.

 _Sixteen years old. Oh my God, he's just a kid._

She should've known he was that young based on how small he was. When she first took off his suit, taking in the muscular, lean body, she had been shocked with how small and _young_ he really looked, but she had just blamed it on the fact that he was doing so much exercise...

Karen was just about to leave and prepare dinner for her kids when she heard it. A soft moaning was escaping Spider-Man's lips, and if she listened closely, she could hear a few words.

"Gwen... no..."

A nightmare. She could tell by the way he was shifting slightly in his sleep, his uncovered mouth turned into a frown.

"Please... I saved you, don't you see... don't die..."

Gwen? He must have lost someone... Karen's heart sank. She had always assumed that he saved everyone, but it wasn't the case. He was probably beating himself up over one loss, heck, it could probably even be the one that made him Spider-Man.

"Not my fault... I saved... you." The teenager gave a little gasp. "Gwen!"

Karen thought about waking him up, then decided against it. He needed sleep, and a nightmare was still sleep. It would go away. She got up and quietly left, bumping into Matt about halfway down the stairs. "He's asleep," she told her husband.

Karen Lee wondered who Gwen was, and what her personal connection to the hero sleeping upstairs had been.

LINE BREAK

Peter needed to get out. After waking up from the nightmare (the same one, over and over again), he realized just how much danger he was putting Karen and Matt in. Anyone with bad intentions could look on social media and find the address, and then they's be in danger because of him. He couldn't let that happen.

His burns were completely healed, and the hole in his side would be gone by tomorrow. He could breathe normally without the help of the oxygen mask. The biggest problem would be his legs.

Luckily, he had retained at least some of the feeling. He could walk - and, sure, it was extremely painful, but he got past that. He'd be fine by the end of the week, he decided, and back to fighting baddies.

Peter grabbed a sticky note from the table beside him and wrote a quick note of thanks for Karen and Matt to find. They had taken good care of him, and he didn't want to completely disregard that.

On unsteady legs (wincing from the pain), Peter walked over to the window and pushed it open, then climbed down the wall onto the grass below. He realized that he didn't have any webbing to swing back home, so he would have to walk the two hours or so.

 _And the old Parker Luck strikes again,_ Peter thought dryly and started walking home.

LINE BREAK

The next day was absolute torture. While Aunt May was happy to have him home, she had immediately directed him to the kitchen, where he had to empty the dish washer. This required a lot of bending down, which Peter's back did not agree with.

He had gone to bed, then woken up to his alarm sounding. His back was aching again, but almost all the feeling had returned to his legs, which was great. He got out of bed, stumbled a bit and crashed to the floor, then got up again and limped downstairs into the kitchen to have breakfast. If May noticed he was in pain, she didn't mention it.

Normally, he'd swing to school, but since he still hadn't gotten round to making more webbing, he decided to take the school bus. Peter walked (hobbled) the block to the bus stop and sat down on a bench, awaiting the arrival.

He heard a siren in the distance, and had to force himself to stay put. He was hurt, badly, and trying to fight baddies would not work out. The police weren't completely incapable; they could handle this on their own.

 _Don't you remember last time you were too late?_ a little voice in his head whispered.

Peter shook his head to clear the thoughts when the bus arrived. When he was healed, he'd go on patrol, but right now, he needed to get to school.

The bus was noisy and cramped with high school kids. As soon as Peter stepped in, he was reminded of why he hated taking the bus. Pencils were being thrown around, insults yelled, and punches landed. Everyone wanted their own seat, so it took Peter ages to actually find one. In the meantime, he had people trying to trip him, which he was able to evade due to his reflexes, but he stumbled nonetheless. Stupid spine.

The bus driver, oblivious to the chaos that reigned behind him, started the vehicle. With a lurch, the bus began to move in the direction of the school. Knowing it was at least five minutes away, Peter leaned his head against seat he was in and tried to rest for a bit, which proved difficult due to the students around him throwing food at each other.

When they reached Midtown High, Peter knew to wait for a bit before disembarking so that he wouldn't get trampled. He had ridden the bus before (shudder), and knew the basic survival knowledge.

For once, he wasn't late.

It was very hard to focus in class. The uncomfortable chair was torture on his tailbone, and getting spitballs thrown in his general direction every few seconds didn't help either. He really liked learning, and always found it infuriating when he couldn't. He supposed being a teen did that to you.

He remembered Karen's face when he told her his age. Shock, mostly. There was also some fear... and a little bit of anger mixed in, too. Some pride? She was a mother, so Peter figured she'd feel protective. It was in her nature. What he didn't get was why his age should be such a big deal! He had been given these powers for a reason, and being sixteen shouldn't change that. If he had the power to help others, then he was obliged to do so.

Peter sighed tiredly as he walked down the halls of his high school, classmates laughing and talking, not a care in the world. Each step hurt, but he was determined to make it through the day. He only had one class left - Physical Education.

They were doing a track unit. The coach all sent them to run laps around the school in under ten minutes. Usually, Peter was able to do this with ease. He may not like to admit it, but seeing the looks on the other guys' faces when he takes his shirt off to change, revealing his muscles, is always priceless. No one expects _Puny Peter Parker_ to be muscular.

Peter started running, and immediately realized that it wouldn't work. Every step was like fire traveling up his back, and his legs felt number by the second. He kept going, certain that he could make it through the day.

What an idiot.

Peter stumbled and fell flat on his face as his legs gave way. He almost blacked out from the pain, but all the other students saw was someone fall on their face, which was pretty funny. They started to laugh, but it soon died down as he failed to get back up.

"Peter?" the coach asked worriedly. "You okay?"

"'M fine..." Peter groaned as numbness returned to his legs. He tried to stand up, then cried out as pain flared up yet again.

The coach pressed his fingers against Peter's tailbone and asked if he could feel it. After a slight hesitation, Peter shook his head.

"Call an ambulance," Coach ordered.

LINE BREAK

Spinal fractures were _so_ annoying.

Here he was, at the one place he didn't want to go to in the first place. The hospital reeked of medicine and chemicals, and Peter hated it. Aunt May had rushed over and yelled at him for not telling her that he couldn't _walk,_ and Peter just wearily listened, not in the mood to argue.

When the doctor came in, Peter's spidey sense went crazy, sending an alarm blaring throughout his skull. Out of instinct, he threw his arms over his face, concealing it.

"Peter Parker, I presume?" a familiar voice asked.

Peter didn't know if it was pure luck or pure unluck that led him to have Karen Lee as his doctor, but as of the moment, she didn't seem to recognize him.

"Can I have a moment alone with him?" she asked Aunt May. "I want to do some procedures that will work better if I'm alone." It was a big, fat lie. Peter could tell.

Aunt May didn't object and left.

"So," Karen said, drawing out the _O,_ "a spinal fracture, huh? Wonder who could have been able to hide that so well."

Crap. Crap, crap, crap. Oh, shoot. _Crap._

"Spidey, please remove your arms from your face."

"No," Peter argued, keeping his arms stubbornly in place.

"Peter-" he flinched as Karen said his name, "-I'm not going to tell anyone. Besides," she added, and Peter heard a crumpled piece of paper out, "you already told me your name before."

"I _what?_ "

"Your _Thank You_ card - super sweet, by the way - it has the name _Peter_ written on it instead of Spider-Man."

Peter swore loudly. He had been so tired and in pain, he had written down his real name instead of his alias. _Idiot,_ he cursed himself. _You complete idiot._

"So you can take your arms away," Karen said stubbornly. "I mean, if I'm going to take care of you, I'll have to see your face eventually."

She had a point.

Peter sighed and slowly took his arms away, then turned his head so he looked straight into Karen's blue eyes. She took in his messy brown hair and chocolate-brown eyes, the small scars on his cheeks, and frowned sadly. "You're so young," she murmured.

After getting stared at for a few seconds, Peter finally said with a raised eyebrow, "You know, I kind of have a broken back. Just saying."

LINE BREAK

The next few days were slightly better for Peter. Karen didn't tell anyone who he really was, listening intently when Peter lectured her about the dangers of knowing his true identity. She found it especially hilarious when she caught him playing Candy Crush on his phone, saying how strange it was to see the city's hero being so _normal._ She refused to let him go outside for a swing, saying that the cops could handle a few criminals.

On the last day of his stay at the hospital (Karen had graciously altered the X-rays to make it seem like he only had severe bruising on his back instead of an actual fracture), the doctor came with a box.

"Your suit was completely wrecked," she confessed as Peter opened it, revealing his red-and-blue suit stitched back together, "and I know how long it must take you to repair it, so I thought I'd do it for you."

Peter grinned at her. "Thanks so much, Karen."

She smiled and reached into her pocket. "Here's my phone number." She handed him a slip of paper. "If you ever need anything, just give me a call and I'll be there."

Much to the doctor's surprise, Peter jumped up and hugged her tightly. "Thank you," he told her, "for everything."

"Like a hero once said..." Karen hugged him back. "Just doing my job."

LINE BREAK

In short, Karen and him became really good friends, despite their age difference. Every time Peter got badly beaten and needed medical help, but couldn't go to the hospital, he went over to Karen's and she patched him up. She taught him how to bake, and he even played with her kids. Whenever Matt's birthday came up, she would ask Peter for advice on what to get him, being a guy and all - where to he laughed and replied that he found guys just as confusing as she did.

Really, good came out of the burning building after all. One thing led to another, and _boom -_ he was able to make a new friend. He didn't dwell on Gwen as much anymore, and took her advice: to never give up hope. Instead of pushing people away, he learned that he would have to include them to actually be the hero everyone expected Spider-Man to be.

And he loved it.


	3. Follow-Up

**(A/N)**

 **Hello! I'm back! And this time, it's not twenty days later! I think.**

 **So this is just a follow-up of my previous one-shot, just because I felt like I needed to write some fluff instead of the usual angst I have been thriving off of for the past... oh, I don't know... year or so?**

 **Fear not! I already have another one-shot planned after this one, and it will be MUCH longer, with action, reveals, and - you guessed it - ANGST.**

 **Yay!**

 **Anyway.**

 **I also forgot to put this in before, but here you go - the disclaimer (even though it should be obvious I own nothing, since this is a fanfiction website)!**

 **I DO NOT OWN SPIDER-MAN. CREDIT GOES TO MARVEL, STAN LEE, STEVE DIKTO, TOM DEFALTO, AND RON FRENZ.**

 **There.**

 **Happy reading!**

.()()()()()()().

Karen Lee sat in her office at home, regretting her choice to refrain from ingesting any more caffeine that night.

The day had started out well enough - she had gone to the hospital, treated some patients, said goodbye to her coworkers, and went home, where she greeted her husband Matt, who had just gotten back from a bank heist. He had complained about the fact that Spider-Man had never showed up, and Karen had to keep it to herself that he would have been patrolling another area at that time. Matt had then flopped down on his bed and fallen asleep immediately, not even bothering to take off his uniform. Karen simply rolled her eyes and turned her attention elsewhere: her two children, Tommy and Fred.

The boys were a boisterous bunch - always demanding something, screaming at each other, or simply running around the house and breaking stuff. At seven years of age, Karen really wasn't surprised. That didn't mean the thirty-six-year-old wasn't completely wiped out by the time she managed to get them to eat their dinner.

Tommy had announced that he was officially a vegetarian and had chucked his sausage at his younger brother (only by a few months, though), resulting in a very angry sausage fight. Karen had settled the issue by bringing out the vegetables, saying that since Tommy was now a vegetarian, he would have to eat his broccoli. Obviously a seven-year-old boy wouldn't have actually willingly be a vegetarian if he knew what it meant - he had probably gotten the word somewhere from school.

To make a long story short, the broccoli was rejected with the title of vegetarian, sausages were returned to their rightful owners, and the doctor's children ate without complaint.

Beautiful silence. Pity it only lasted for so long.

As soon as the dreaded sentence "It's time for bed," was uttered, both Tommy and Fred had gone absolutely nuts. They screamed and thrashed about as Karen heaved them onto her shoulders and brought them upstairs, pointedly ignoring their whines and pleas for just five more minutes of play time. She had dumped them on their bed, read a quick goodnight story, turned off the lights, and was about to leave when she remembered that she hadn't given them their water.

When she returned with a glass full of the heavenly liquid, she was greeted with two screaming children jumping up and down on their flimsy beds. She had yelled at them to lie down and get to sleep or they wouldn't get any ice cream tomorrow, and with that threat on their minds, she was finally able to get them to calm down.

Ah, sweet relief. _Bed, here I come!_

Alas, the torture was not over yet. As Karen was getting dressed for bed, she got a text from her boss at the hospital reminding her that she had to send in her full reports before midnight. Scrambling back into her day clothes, the frantic mother had opened her computer and started typing her reports. It was eight thirty when she had started, and now it was over ten o'clock.

Just a few more patients. Karen typed with furious speed, feeling the muscles cramping in her fingers as she finished up her report. Her eyes were beginning to ache because of the blue light, but she was… done. She was done!

Karen Lee slumped back in her chair, exhausted but elated. She was about to leave again when…

 _Shoot._

She forgot to write that important email. That is, the you-could-lose-your-job-and-pride-and-be-super-guilty-for-the-rest-of-your-life important email. And it was due - lo and behold - by midnight.

Sighing in resignation, Karen shook out her fingers and opened up her mail to write.

It was around ten forty-five that she heard the sirens, not too far from where she lived in her small apartment by the less-occupied side of the city in Queens, New York. Her phone buzzed, and a quick glance gave her a little smile as she read the headline.

 _Oh, Spidey_ , she thought in amusement, pride swelling up in her chest, _You really are something, stopping a shooting._

Karen finished the last of her email and sent it quickly, making sure it was the right recipient. She even copied and pasted it to send it again, just in case.

The doctor looked out the window at the lit up city. New York truly was beautiful; many would say that the skyscrapers and constant noise was irritating and an insult to Mother Nature, but there was a sort of peacefulness in the way the city never truly slept. It reminded Karen that she wasn't alone in this world, that she would always have other people around her - it meant that people would still be around for her to heal.

Suddenly, a shape seemed to hurtle out of the shadows and straight at her window. A lean, muscular body… attached to a string?

 _Thump_. The figure crashed into her window and began to slide down, but not before it was able to grab ahold of the glass with its fingers… gloved fingers. Karen gasped as she realized who is was and rushed over, opening the window to let him in.

"Spidey," Karen said, shaking her head, "what the hell are you doing here this late at night?"

The hero crawled inside the house and let out a deep breath, then took off his mask, revealing the teenager behind it. His brown hair was disheveled, his wide, chocolate-brown eyes wild. A wide bruise had formed around his jaw. "I told you to call me Peter," he said in a gasping voice. "As for why I'm here, well, I knew you'd be up."

"Is that so," Karen called over her shoulder as she grabbed bandages, ointment, and all the other necessary equipment. She had lost track on how many times she had had to do this already, and knew the protocol.

"Yeah. I mean, you have two extremely loud kids and a husband who is a very good cop with baddies, but not so much with children - no offense. You come back from the hospital every day at six, so you'd be done by eight or so. You were also complaining about that report you still haven't done last time we talked, and knowing you, you probably just finished about an hour ago. Then you'd have that really important email that you most definitely forgot - again, _you_ \- which would take you at least another hour."

"Wow. Nicely done."

"Of course, you probably had your caffeine to keep you up long enough for me to get here on time."

" _Aha!_ " Karen screeched, pointing a finger at him triumphantly. "I didn't _have_ any caffeine!"

"Then you must be really tired," Peter remarked. He let her apply the ointment to his bruises and bandage his cuts, then gratefully accepted the spare clothing handed to him. He rose and changed quickly into civilian clothes in the bathroom down the hall, then came back to Karen's office empty.

Peter was about to call - which would've woken the entire household, mind you - when he heard a noise coming from the kitchen. It sounded like mugs clinking together. Not long after, a delicious smell rose to meet his nose, and he grinned, bounding down the hall. He leaped up onto the ceiling and clung to it, crawling the rest of the way there, then dropped down behind Karen soundlessly and tapped her on the shoulder, emitting a small squeak. She whirled around and glared at him, two steaming cups of coffee in her hand.

"Gimme!" Peter's hand shot out for the mug, but she pulled it back just in time.

"Nope," the doctor said cheerfully, "not until you apologize for sneaking up on me like that, and not until you've said the magic word!"

Peter rolled his eyes playfully. "What am I, five?" He grinned at her indifferent face. "Fine. Sorry and please."

"The magic word was _abracadabra_ ," Karen said, handing him the mug.

Peter took a long sip from the coffee, sighing contentedly as the rejuvenating caffeine and warmth spread throughout his body. "This," he declared, raising his mug, "is the drink of the gods, Karen Lee."

"Hear, hear," his friend replied, clinking her mug against his.

.00000000000.

They had decided that after drinking three cups of coffee each, neither would be going to sleep anytime soon. So, to settle the issue, Karen popped in a movie. The couch was as comfortable as Peter remembered, except now it wasn't covered in blood - which was, of course, and improvement.

They cuddled close together, wrapped in blankets as the AC beat them relentlessly with cold. The movie was an old one from the '80s, but no one minded; it was a cliche romantic comedy, the best kind, and both Karen and Peter had to keep from laughing out loud in fear of waking the others.

"This is nice," Peter said after the end credits started to roll. "Relaxing, I mean. Not having to worry about much."

"Yeah," Karen agreed softly, examining the stitched fabric of her blue blanket. She thought back to the day she had first met Peter - the day she had first met Spider-Man. He had been badly injured while saving some children from a fire, and she had been in charge of taking care of him. The little stunt he had pulled - going out while still healing from a spinal injury - had lead her to figuring out his identity.

She remembered when he had fallen asleep with her in the room. He had had a nightmare; murmuring something about a girl named Gwen. _I wonder who Gwen was,_ she thought, but one quick look at Peter's horrified face let her know that she had voiced her thoughts out loud.

"Where did you here her name?" Peter whispered. His voice broke her heart - shattered, lost, full of pain.

"I..." Karen sighed. "When you were recovering here. You had a nightmare, and said her name several times."

Peter was silent for a moment, staring fixedly at a spot on the wall. Karen played with a loose string on her blanket, not trusting herself to speak. The carefree mood seemed to disappear completely.

Finally, after what seemed like ages, Peter spoke up in a choked voice. "She was my girlfriend. The only one who knew about... who knew who I was. I... I had just finished battling Electro, and she had insisted on coming to help..." His hands started to shake, and Karen put her own over his.

"It's okay," she said softly, "you don't have to tell me."

"No." Peter shook his head. "I need to tell _someone._ Otherwise I'll go crazy."

Karen nodded.

"We were on the ground, both of us; I was telling her to go back, when... there was the Green Goblin, remember him? He took her, and I guess he must've seen us... he figured out who I was. So he took Gwen up to this clock tower on his flying surfboard and... and dropped her." His breath hitched, his eyes watery. "I tried... I tried so hard to save her... but it was too late. She was gone. And it's all my fault."

Karen narrowed her eyes and grabbed his shoulders. "Peter, look at me. None of that is your fault. You tried to save her, and in the end, it was her decision to help. You're not to blame."

Peter nodded, eyes wide. "I've moved on, it's just... _hard_ sometimes."

Karen smiled and brought him into a hug. "I'm here for you. Don't you forget."

.0000000000.

Once the clock reached one in the morning, Karen decided it was time for the hero to go. He had school, after all.

Once they had said their goodbyes, with Peter swinging off into the city skyline, shooting webs from his wrists and clinging to buildings, Karen took one last look around her office to make sure she hadn't forgotten about anything. She yawned, feeling her eyelids grow heavy, and trudged into her room to change. Matt was still snoring in bed with his uniform. Karen smirked as she thought how annoyed he'd be with her for not changing him, and how he would splutter as he realized what he had just said.

She changed quickly and got into bed, burying herself in the covers. She blew a strand of brown hair out of her face and stared up at the ceiling for a few seconds before sleep started to pull her in.

 _You really are something, Peter Parker,_ was her last thought before she embraced her well-deserved sleep.


	4. The Ringing in My Ears

**(A/N)**

 **Whoops, lookie here... I said that I would write an angsty chapter next! Haha, sorry...**

 **Okay, so this one DOES have angst, just not as much as I planned.**

 **Don't worry, I was actually planning on a different story, I just couldn't figure out how it would end, and then this popped into my head... so, hopefully, next time I'll have the original idea there. :)**

 **REVIEW ANSWERS (yup!):**

 **Let's start with the VEEERRRRYYY first one.**

 **Black Cat: Hello, first reviewer! I'm glad I'm not the only grammar freak around. As for the "STAY RANDOM" bit, I meant it so that you just keep having random bursts of... randomness? You're right, this is hard to explain. I do see your point, though.**

 **cabrera1234: ...I'm glad you asked! ;)**

 **cabrera1234: You're very welcome!**

 **MythologyStar: Thank you so much! I'm really glad you enjoyed it. :D**

 **MythologyStar: I haven't actually seen Daredevil, but I'll take your word for it! XD**

 **Guest: Sadly, I won't be making any of these one-shots actual stories, mostly because I think of this website as more of a place for me to write down whatever comes to mind. If I did make it a story, I would hardly update because of my commitment to Wattpad. Sorry... But I'm really glad you liked it! Thanks!**

 **Okay, I think that's about it. Thank you so much for reviewing! Also, thank you for following and favoriting!**

 **ACK! Almost forgot the summary!**

 **It takes place after** ** _Captain America: Civil War_** **. Peter experiences his first fire drill after the spider bite (I know schools are supposed to have one every month, but just bear with me), and because of his enhanced senses, it's a little more than what he bargained for.**

 **Happy reading!**

 **(I don't own Spider-Man or any characters associated with him, yadda yadda. Honestly, this is . Emphasis on FANFICTION. If I owned him, don't you think I would be doing something productive, like making a third season of Spectacular Spider-Man?)**

.)()()()()()()()(.

An _internship._ He called it an _internship._

He called going to Berlin to fight the Avengers, his own _teammates,_ mind you, an _internship._ He called getting beaten up by Captain-freaking-America an _internship._ He called _stealing Captain America's shield_ an _internship._ Tony Stark called this all an _internship?_

Two weeks later, Peter was still laughing over it.

Of course, it helped cover it all up with Aunt May. The only problem was... she actually thought he had been helping Mr. Stark with his lab, working on chemical formulas, and fetching him coffee. So forgive him if all he was able to come up with when Aunt May asked him what he did was a measly, "Uh... _science stuff._ "

"Oh," Aunt May had said, a confused expression on her face.

Yeah... that didn't go too well.

It wasn't _all_ a hoax. After Peter returned, Mr. Stark had confirmed that the internship was "legit," he just needed to actually schedule a time for it. Mostly, that time was during school, during dinner, during patrol as Spider-Man, or at four o'clock in the morning. Sure, it was inconvenient, but totally worth it. He got to spend time with an Avenger (okay, they were split, but it was still cool)!

Peter thoroughly enjoyed spending time at the tower. Because he was Spider-Man, he was allowed to use the training room, which was where he spent a lot of his time, fascinated by the training methods the Avengers used. He would go and chat science with Stark, then help him with some designs, and go get coffee, as he had expected. Tony Stark barely slept, and when he was low on alcohol, he would have coffee. It seemed, however, as if Stark refused to drink in front of Peter, which the fifteen-year-old was completely okay with.

Yes, Peter Parker loved being Tony Stark's intern.

He didn't know that Tony felt the same way about him.

Tony Stark rarely felt much love for one person in particular. He most certainly didn't see himself as a responsible adult, which the public agreed on ( _psh_ , whatever). But when he saw Peter, he saw a certain spark in the kid. A spark that would grow into something more.

He wanted the kid to be happy. He didn't want him to end up an alcoholic, playboy, and complete jerk, like Capscicle reminded him daily.

And so, he took it upon himself to show the kid what it was like to be an honorary hero. Someone who was better than him. Someone other could look up to. The internship kept him close, allowed him to watch him closely and see him grow.

Tony hoped Peter liked being his intern.

..0.0.0.

"Peter," Aunt May called from downstairs, "time for school!"

Peter heard her. He just didn't want to get up.

"Peter!" May called again. She sighed, climbed the stairs to his room, and knocked on the door. "Peter, wake up."

He'd gone to bed at, like, three in the morning.

"I'm coming in."

Peter groaned and turned over in his bed, scratching his head. Wait a minute. Where was his hair?

Was that spandex?

Like a bullet, Peter shot out of bed and locked the door before Aunt May could open it. "I'm naked, Aunt May!" he yelled. It was the first thing that popped into his head.

"You're going to be late for school!" May shouted, unperturbed. "Get ready!"

"Will do," Peter replied, sighing in relief as he heard her walk down the stairs. He fumbled with his mask for a bit and managed to take it off, throwing it in his schoolbag with his gloves. He was going to see Mr. Stark directly after school today, so there wasn't any point in changing out of the Spider-Man suit.

But Aunt May had nearly seen him. He needed to be more careful...

Finished with changing, Peter opened the door and ran down the stairs two at a time, swinging over the railing to land on the floor of the kitchen by his aunt. He grabbed a toast and said a quick goodbye, giving her a kiss on the cheek, then ran out of the house, fully aware of how late it was.

He ducked into an alley, took off his clothes, put on his mask and gloves, and swung the rest of the way to school. He let out a whoop as he shot web out of his wrists, making him look like Tarzan as he swung across the city. Below him, pedestrians waved and shrieked in joy as the blue-and-red clad superhero flew by. Along the way, Spider-Man shot a glob of webbing at a man trying to mug a woman, making him get stuck to the wall while the woman got away and called the cops.

Reaching Midtown Science High School, Peter changed back into his civilian clothing behind a dumpster, then walked out as if nothing had happened. His watch read that he still had a few minutes to spare. Perfect.

It was great being Spider-Man.

He saw his best friend, Ned, and waved him over.

"Hey," Ned greeted him. "Finished your homework?"

"Ugh!" Peter slapped his forehead. "Crap. No, I was too busy."

"Internship?" Ned asked sympathetically.

Peter rolled his eyes. "I love being his intern, honest, but sometimes I wonder how that man does it. And why he has to drag me down with him."

They laughed heartily and made their way into the school. The halls were lined with students chatting, lockers slamming, and teachers yelling. Peter felt a twinge of pain in his head at all the noise, but ignored it. That had been going on for a while now, but had never bothered him enough that he thought of it to be an issue.

"Yo, Parker!" said a loud voice from behind him. Peter and Ned sighed collectively and turned to face Flash Thompson, the school bully. He wore his signature smirk and sports jersey, with his gang of cheerleaders and footballers behind him.

"Flash," Peter said tiredly. "What is it _now?_ "

Flash grinned. "Heard you got a little job with Stark!" he boomed, making Peter wince. All that noise really _was_ getting to him. "You get paid?"

"Nah," Peter replied and started to walk away, waving goodbye to Ned, who had a different class. Over his shoulder, he yelled, "After all, knowledge is the greatest gift one could get!"

"Nerd," he heard Flash mutter as he walked away.

Peter had gotten better at ignoring Flash's taunts. Ever since the spider bite, he had grown in confidence, and when he figured out that Spider-Man was Flash's idol, well, let's just say he had been a lot happier that day. What wouldn't he give to see the jock's reaction at the realization that Spider-Man was a nerd, the very boy he used to constantly bully (and still did, though not as much)...

He was so immersed in his thoughts, he didn't notice when he entered the classroom, and much less when the teacher finally started the lesson.

"Peter?" the teacher called for the third time. "Peter!"

A girl next to him poked him in the ribs, dragging Peter out of his fantasies. "Oh," he said, noticing the snickers of his fellow classmates and the exasperated expression of his teacher. "Sorry, what was the question?"

"I _asked you_ ," Mrs. Frisen spoke, drawing out the words, "if you finished your homework."

"Oh." Peter shifted nervously. "Actually... I got home really late, and didn't have time to finish it. Sorry."

His English teacher sighed. "That's alright. I know you have a lot to do, just don't let it get in the way of your schoolwork."

"Won't happen again," Peter promised. Not many of the students knew he had the internship, and to reduce unwanted attention, the teachers tried to keep it contained. Of course, since Flash knew, it was only a matter of time before the rest of the student body did, too.

Before Mrs. Frisen could resume the lesson, a low bell sounded over the speaker ( _ow,_ complained Peter's ears), and the crackly voice of the principal spoke: _"Attention! We will be holding a fire drill shortly. Students are asked to comply to their teacher's wishes. Again, this is just a drill. A fire alarm will sound in a few minutes. This is just a drill._ "

The students turned their attention back to the front of the classroom after the announcement was over. A fire drill wasn't something they had never experienced before, even though it had been a while since the last one.

Peter, for one, was freaking out.

He remembered how his head hurt every time he walked by the locker bay. With that noise, he was extremely uncomfortable. How would a _fire drill_ affect him?

He stood up. "Mrs. Frisen, I need to use the restroom," he said.

The teacher frowned. "Not now, Peter. There will be a fire drill shortly. Sit down."

"But I really have to go," Peter begged.

"Then you'll have to hold it," she said firmly and turned back to her whiteboard to keep teaching.

 _I can't be here when there's a fire drill,_ Peter thought, panic starting to set in. _I can't._

.o.0.O.0.o.

" _Sir,_ " said the feminine voice of Tony Stark's AI, Friday, " _it seems as if Peter Parker's vitals are spiking an unhealthy amount_."

"What?" Tony snapped to attention, spinning in his wheeled chair as he sat at his desk, working on some new designs. His lab was, as usual, cluttered with all the latest technology. A mug of coffee sat next to him on the table, and bags were visible under his eyes. "What is it? What happened? Is he hurt? Is he dead?"

" _He's at school,_ " Friday replied smoothly.

"At school? Wait. If you can tell his vitals, does that mean he's wearing his suit?"

" _So it would seem. You_ did _tell him to come over here as soon as school finished._ "

"So I did," Tony muttered. he got up and opened a hologram of Midtown High. "Where is he now? Can you tell me what happened?"

Friday zoomed into the English classroom for him, highlighting Peter in red and the rest of the students in green. Tony noticed how his serotonin levels had spiked, showing that he was panicked. But... he was in the middle of a lesson. Didn't the teen love school?

" _Sir, it seems there has been an announcement moments before that may have something to do with Peter's emotions."_

"Play it."

As the billionaire listened to the announcement, he slowly felt realization trickle in. A fire alarm. In itself, quite harmless, but...

 _Whatever happened happened; it's like my senses have been dialed to eleven._

Iron Man shot out of his seat. He had to get to that school.

.o.0.O.0.o.

Peter could _feel_ the seconds trickling down to the fire drill. It was a constant buzzing in his mind, keeping him from focusing, and every fiber of his being was telling him to _get out of that school!_

But he stayed put.

It was just a fire drill, right? He'd hurt for a few moments, then they'd go outside, and it would pass. Not a big deal. He could handle it.

 _Not a big deal, my ass,_ his spider sense screamed. _Get out of there!_

As for Tony, he had arrived at the school. He flashed his Avengers card at the secretary, who was too stunned to say anything, and walked right on into the building. It was when he finally reached the hallways lined with lockers that he realized: He had no idea which classroom Peter was in. He had forgotten to check.

Not only that, he _strongly despised_ high schools. Those memories weren't good.

Right as he was about tear the building apart in his haste, he saw a student hurrying down the hall. He was an overweight boy with dark brown hair and eyes. "Hey! Hey, you!" Tony called, running up to the kid.

The student spun around and stared wide-eyed at the Avenger, speechless. Oh, yippee, a fan. Great.

Tony wasn't in the mood for autographs. "Peter Parker," he said curtly. "Where?"

The boy's expression became guarded. "Why do you ask?"

"Oh my God," Tony exclaimed. "Can't you see this is an emergency?"

"Peter's my friend," the boy said. "I'm not gonna-" then he stopped. "Wait. You're his boss." He grinned sheepishly. "Sorry. Uh, English class, second floor, room two-oh-eight."

"Thanks, kid," Tony said, running off in the direction he pointed in.

He sprinted down the hallway, ignoring the stares he received from students in their classrooms. The fire alarm was going to go off, and he'd never find the Spiderling when that happened.

Just as he saw the classroom in front of him, the fire alarm went off.

.FFFFF.

Pain exploded in Peter's head as the fire alarm went off. A high pitched ringing made his ears seem like they were about to fall off, and black spots danced in front of his eyes. He clutched his ears to clock it out, but to no avail, and crumpled to the floor, screaming.

The students, about to leave the room, stopped in shock as they realized what was happening. The teacher was shaking, unsure of what to do.

 _Make it stop, make it stop, please, just make it stop...!_

Ringing. Buzzing. His entire being was vibrating. His head was screaming, and he could not move. He tried to curl up into a little ball, thinking that would make it better.

Things only got more confusing when Tony Stark burst through the door, hair disheveled. He was in a t-shirt and pajama pants, an extremely unprofessional look for the Iron Man, but he didn't care. He yelled at the teacher over the alarm to get the kids out, saying he would take care of it. She nodded, trusting the man, and ushered everyone out.

Pain pounded into his skull, hitting him with a brick over and over again.

Tony was desperate. He tried to snap Peter out of his state, but the kid wouldn't budge. He noticed blood trickling through his hands clutching his ears, and swore - very loudly, which, he realized, would definitely not _help._

Luckily, he came prepared. He touched the watch on his wrist, and metal plates began flying over the city to where he was standing. They gathered around the screaming and crying boy, creating a protective shell.

The last thing Peter saw before losing consciousness was red and gold blocking his vision, and with it, the noise.

.uUuUuOuUuUu.

When the alarm finally stopped blaring, Tony disassembled the suit. The pieces flew back out the window, where he knew they would return back to the tower. Peter was asleep, still curled up in a ball. His hands had fallen to his sides, showing the blood that had started to trickle out of his ears. Tony felt a pang of sympathy. The poor kid couldn't even experience a fire drill because of his heightened senses.

Of course, one single fire drill shouldn't be enough to do that. The billionaire was going to have a serious talk with Peter when he woke up.

Right on cue. Peter shifted and groaned, then opened his eyes blearily. "Mr... Mr. Stark?" he asked, confused. "What are you - what are you doing - here?"

Tony raised an eyebrow. "Fire alarm." His voice was controlled, low. Quiet. Pleasantly so.

"It hurts," the vigilante complained. "My head hurts."

"Yeah, and it would've hurt a lot more if I hadn't gotten here," said Tony. "How long have your senses been bothering you? And I want an honest answer."

"Um... a while? I don't know." Peter touched his ears and seemed surprised that there was blood. "The... the locker bay - and the people talking..."

Tony shook his head in exasperation. "Kid, your senses are enhanced. The more you strain your ears like that, the weaker they get. All that noise built up, and the fire alarm was the breaking point." He grabbed a nearby Kleenex box and dabbed the tissues at Peter's ears, which were still bleeding, though not as much. He gave the box to Peter while he rummaged around in his pockets. He _had_ come prepared.

He pulled out a little black box and pressed a button. The box unfolded into a set of headphones, the earpieces thickly padded. Before Peter had any idea of what was happening, Tony lunged forward and put the headphones over his head. Immediately, all sound was blocked off by a pleasant feeling of numbness. It was so comfortable, in fact, that he didn't even notice the rest of his class had returned and was now watching the exchange with wide eyes.

He sat there, completely at ease and enjoying the silence, as Tony spoke with the teacher. When he was finished, he knelt by Peter again and pressed a button on the headset. "Peter," Tony said. His voice was just the right volume. "Can you hear me?"

"Yeah," Peter answered, "I can hear you."

"Good. The headset will adjust any noise to a bearable volume. You'll wear this for the rest of the day."

Peter groaned. "What? No!"

"You can and you will," said Tony stubbornly. He turned to face the teacher and winked at her, then strutted out of the classroom as best he could in pajamas.

.000000000000.

To say he was exhausted was an understatement.

The day was almost over, and each time Peter entered a new classroom, he'd have to explain why he wore the gigantic black headphones. A lot of teachers didn't even believe him until he called Mr. Stark!

Really, all he wanted to do was go home, curl up in bed, and sleep forever.

The bell rang, and again Peter relished in the fact that it was at the perfect volume. He packed up his books and left the classroom, then walked on to the locker bay.

He opened his locker, but before he could grab his bag and stuff everything in it, he saw Flash out of the corner of his eye reach forward and take off his headphones before he could react. All at once, the noise of the lockers banging and people shouting slammed into him, and he collapsed against his locker, crying out in pain as his ears began to ring again. He knew his ears were bleeding, but he couldn't do anything; his senses were taking in too much for him to move.

Just as he was about to black out, he felt the numbing sensation again as someone put the headset back on, and after a moment, he could move again. His vision focused to see Ned yelling (well, it sounded more like he was talking to him, but Peter was pretty sure he was yelling) at Flash, who looked completely terrified.

"Why would you do that?" Ned was saying. "Haven't you been paying attention to anything that's been going on?" News of the "Parker Fire Alarm Incident" had traveled throughout the school _fast._ Peter wondered how Flash hadn't known.

"I - I thought... I thought it was all a - a joke," Flash mumbled.

"A joke?" Ned shrieked. _"A joke?!_ "

"Ned," Peter spoke up. "I'm fine. Honest."

"Only because I was here!"

"I'm sorry, okay?" Flash yelled. His face was burning, his eyes held anger... and fear. He truly hadn't known what he was doing.

"Flash," Peter said softly. "It's okay."

The jock scoffed, but Peter could see the relief in his eyes. "Whatever, Parker." He stalked off.

"You okay, Pete?" Ned asked once he was gone.

"Yes," Peter said impatiently. "I'm _fine._ Now, can I _please_ get my stuff so I can go home?"

.hHhHhHhHh.

When Peter got home, a package was waiting for him, signed _T. Stark._

Inside the package was a pair of red and blue earplugs (he rolled his eyes at the colors), each with a little dial at the larger, flatter side - the side facing sound. A letter inside the package read, _Adjust the volume to your taste. Wear this at all times. When your ears heal, then you can take them off, Spider-Boy._

Peter grinned and slipped the earplugs in. They fit comfortably, and when he looked in his reflection on a window, he saw that they were almost invisible. He turned the small dial and played around with it for a while, enjoying the changes in the volume. It was perfect.

The next day, he went to school, and no one was the wiser. He went about his day, and didn't wince once at the noise.

Gradually, he turned the dial a bit more each day, until there was almost the normal amount of sound reaching his ears. It took a while, but after that, he got used to all the noise and was able to go about his day, completely at ease.

The next time they had a fire drill, all that happened to Peter was a slight pain between his eyes and a vibration in his head, but he just covered his ears and fought through it.

No more ringing in his ears.


End file.
